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If you told Eddie Diaz that soon after his move back to Texas he would be the proud guardian (Not owner, Buck. She rules this house more than I do,) of a small cat he found in a dumpster, he would think you were crazy.
It’s not that he hates animals. No, on the contrary. Eddie would love to own a cat. But between his wildly unpredictable job, and a kid who is unsteady on his feet at the best of times, having a little creature underfoot would, in his opinion, do more harm than good.
Back in LA, he almost broke his own rule more than once. It took all of his strength not to stop every time he saw a stray cat on the street. Or in a tree. Or in his own backyard.
But he isn’t in LA anymore. He doesn’t have an unpredictable job anymore.
His son doesn’t live with him anymore, not for the lack of trying.
So when Eddie hears the faintest mrow during an evening walk after an… unfortunate dinner with his parents and Chris, he can, for once in his life, justify stopping to help the creature.
The cat is small. That is the first thing he notices. The second thing he sees is that even through the dirt and grime-
“Hola, mi corazón,” Eddie whispers, holding a hand out for the cat to inspect. Because, directly on her back, in a sea of dirty white, is a grey patch that looks exactly like a heart.
Eddie does very well in holding back a giggle when the cat runs her head into his hand. He hates the way her nasty fur feels under his fingertips, but seeing her warm up to him immediately was worth it.
Her purrs aren’t loud, but he can feel the vibrations rumble through her small body. He is happy, and the little creature is too.
When Eddie attempts to back up away from her, she follows with a chirp and strange looking hop.
“Mrrp?” she asks.
Eddie looks around. He has no way of getting the sweet angel home with him, and it breaks his heart. He thinks for a moment. Hopefully, if he runs home and grabs his car fast enough, she would still be here when he comes back. Fifteen minutes tops.
“If you let me go, mi angelito, I can come back for you, alright?”
But to her it isn’t alright. Eddie takes three steps before she jumps after him, keeping stride.
Huh.
Eddie looks down at his new friend. “I guess you’re walking home with me, then.”
She is a good little companion. She runs off a few times, but only for a moment before she’s right back at his side again.
Back at the house, Eddie googles the closest vet and gives them a call. Through some act of divine mercy, they’re able to fit him in that evening.
Thanking the receptionist, he hangs up, and smiles at the cat who made a home in the one patch of light made by the setting sun, just as if she belonged there.
Eddie looks around for something he could use as a cat carrier. The best thing he has is a rectangular cardboard box he’s been ignoring to break down, left over from the move.
“Okay, mi angelito,” he says. “Time for us to get going.”
Setting the box down a few feet away from the cat, Eddie watches as she slowly sits up to inspect it. Apparently it passes whatever muster there is, so she jumps in and digs at the box’s corners (for what reason, Eddie isn’t sure). However, instead of curling up like she had done before, the cat stretches herself to her full length, which is impressively long.
Eddie chuckles. “That works?”
Even when he picks up the box, she keeps herself stretched out, content as can be. Luckily, during the transport, he only bothers her once, which he learns to never do again lest he wants to be glared at by a pissed off cat.
When they arrive at the vet, the cat has decided that nap time is over and is peeking over the edge of the box.
“Chupacabra,” he whispers to himself after seeing only the cat's little eyes.
The visit itself isn’t all that bad. She’s a bit weary of the room at first, but as soon as she notices the counter that is a lot taller than she is, she immediately jumps out of her box to explore.
“Nope!” Eddie says, scooping her up.
The cat makes a pathetic mrow at him.
“I don’t care,” he replies, as if she had actually said something. “You cannot be a menace for a doctor we don’t know.”
She seems to be apologetic, because she stays buried in his armpit until the vet walks in.
“Awww,” the vet coos when she sees the cat in his arms.
“It was either this or acting like a menace, and I didn’t think you wanted her up on your counters.”
The vet shrugs. “At least she hasn’t peed anywhere yet.”
That is true.
Overall, the appointment goes smoothly. She’s a couple years old, spayed, and only slightly underweight, which is impressive for a street cat.
“One more thing,” the vet says, right before Eddie gets up to leave. “I see there isn’t a name on her intake form. Did you want to change that?”
Eddie has no idea what to name the creature. Growing up, he was the type of kid to name his teddy bear, “Teddy,” and naming a cat “Kitty,” at his age?
“Oh, um-”
He is distracted by the cat trying to climb up his leg. She is stretched to her full length, trying her best to bat at… something.
“Not now, habichuela,” he whispers. “Let me finish this and then I’ll pick you up.”
The vet writes something on her sheet. “Is that her name? Habichuela?”
Eddie thinks for a moment. String bean. Not the worst name for a cat?
“Sure,” he replies. “That works.”
The vet hums and finishes his paperwork. “You two are free to go! Do you have any questions for me?”
Nothing he couldn’t just ask Buck later.
“I don’t think so, no.”
Releasing the papers from her clipboard, the vet hands him the stack. “Since she’s pretty healthy, I don’t have much for you in terms of paperwork. I do want to see her back in a couple weeks, just to double check that she’s gaining weight properly.”
Eddie nods. “I can do that, yeah.”
“Then we’re all set!” The vet smiles.
Eddie looks to where the— Habichuela has curled up at his feet.
“Ready to go, mi princesa?” He asks her, to make sure she’s included, of course. He scoops her into her makeshift carrier, and after stopping at the desk to make a follow up appointment, brings her out to his car.
He stares at her for a moment, and she stares back. It’s official. He’s a cat dad. And being a father means he needs to take care of her, which means…
“I need to go to the store and get a couple things. So we’re going to go home, and you’re going to take a nap while I go shopping.”
Habichuela looks like she understands, and he’ll take it.
Except, she doesn’t really understand. Or, rather, she does but doesn’t care. Because she starts screaming when he tries to leave the house again.
“So… I’m not going to the store then,” Eddie speaks into the void.
Habichuela, sitting at his feet, mrrps in reply.
“What am I going to do with you, chiquita?” He asks, scooping her into his arms. Only this time, instead of her staying in his arms, she starts to climb.
“Demon, what-?” He grits out when her nails dig into his shoulder.
Like the little angel she is, Habichuela begins to purr.
Ever-so-gracefully, Eddie digs his phone out of his back pocket and opens his camera. He looks at himself in the selfie camera. He smiles softly at the creature perched on his neck like a scarf. Taking a picture, he sends it to Buck.
Eddie
[habichuelathescarf.img]
However, instead of a text back, his phone starts to ring.
“Eddie, you got a cat?” Buck asks in lieu of greeting.
“Hi, Eddie, how are you doing today, Eddie?” Eddie teases. “I’m doing very well. Thanks for asking, Buck.”
Buck rolls his eyes. “Hi, Eddie,” he repeats. “Now when did you get a cat?”
Eddie glances at the time on his phone. “A couple of hours ago,” he says. “I found her on a walk earlier.” He maneuvers the camera so Buck can get a better view of her face. “Meet Habichuela.”
Eddie watches as Buck mouths the name.
“String Bean,” Eddie translates for him.
Buck seems to be at a loss for words. “That’s, uh-”
“It was a nickname I called her at the vet and it stuck. Nothing more to it.”
“She’s cute,” Buck says. “Trying to replace me?”
Eddie grins through the pain in his chest.
“I’m not replacing anyone, Buck. I’m just…”
“Adding to the family?” Buck offers.
“Yeah.”
They pair are silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the cat purring on his neck.
“What does Chris think?” Buck asks finally.
Eddie lets out a breath. “He’s still with my parents, and he’s still not talking to me. I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to buy his forgiveness.”
“You’re not trying to buy anything, Eddie,” Buck argues. “You’re trying to be happy. And, I think it’s a good look for you.”
Eddie snorts, and the force jiggles Habichuela, who is not pleased. He winces at the nails in his back.
“You think, Buck?”
A look flashes on Buck’s face, and before Eddie could decipher what it means, Buck changes the subject.
“How are you looking on cat supplies?”
Eddie looks around the bare house. “I used an old moving box as a cat carrier to and from the vet, and she started crying when I tried to leave again. It’s not looking great.”
There’s some shuffling on Buck’s end of the call, and Eddie sees that Buck has opened his computer.
“Buck, you don’t-”
“But I want,” Buck counters. “Now, Eddie. Do you want scented or unscented litter?”